Important Internet Experiment: What Does A Porn Star Reading A Book While Using A Vibrator Look Like?

Clayton Cubitt is a very smart man. The professional photographer wanted to launch a new web series, “Hysterical Literature,” but BOOO BOOKS. People on the Internet hate books. To get around this ignorant problem, he thought of something people on the Internet do like, attractive women, and came up with the idea of filming attractive women…reading books…while being pleasured by a vibrator. Porn star Stoya, of Pirates II: Stagnetti’s Revenge and Power F*ck fame, was the first participant, and while reciting a selection from Supervert’s ode to corpse-f*cking, Necrophilia Variations, an unseen vibrator takes care of things down below.

I’ve been told to dress as I would for a date with a man, not a boy. I’m wearing a dress from Vivienne Westwood’s Anglomania collection last year. The cut limits the range of motion of my arms, but ideally I wouldn’t need to open my own doors or feel the desire to talk on my phone while on a date with a man. My makeup is simple, my heels very high but relatively practical, and my panties are both sophisticated and expensive. Also, damp in the gusset. Sexually speaking I really enjoy things that I can’t predict and things that are new to me. This attempting-to-read-aloud-and-maintain-composure while being sexually stimulated game is new. The video camera adds a dash of exhibitionism which I always appreciate. Most interesting, though, is the Hitachi that my vagina is about to be making very good friends with for the first time.

When I tell Clayton’s lovely assistant for the evening that I’ve never experienced the Hitachi, her eyes light up. I’ve obviously gotten myself into the most fun kind of trouble. Lights get set and everyone assumes their positions. My underwear lays on the floor out of frame. As I start reading, my disbelief is suspended. I forget what is about to happen. The first touch on my thigh sends all available blood to my vulva. I continue to enunciate properly, focusing on the text. I’ve broken a sweat. If this goes on for much longer my hair will be plastered to my head with perspiration as though I’ve been working out or engaging in acrobatic man/woman penetrative fucking. I stumble over a word, my concentration breaks as I go back to pronounce it correctly. Neither the Hitachi or the woman wielding it will be denied, but in the interests of art (and because this feels so beautifully filthy I don’t want it to stop yet) I hold out as long as I can. This section of the world that I’m inhabiting slows down, zooms in. Like a stretched rubber band it suddenly contracts, and I am lovingly punched with an orgasm.

I giggle-pant, hands on the table. Once enough pieces of my mind have come back I deliver the closing line. (Via)